Surviving - Amanda Gorman

Surviving, By Amanda Gorman

These words need not be red for our blood to run 
through them.
When tragedy threatens to end us, we are flooded 
by what is felt;
Our faces fluctuating, warped like an acre passing 
Seasons. Perhaps the years are plotted & planned
Just like seeds in a fresh-plowed field.
When we dream, we act only with instinct.
We might not be fully sure of all that we are. 
& yet we have endured all that we were.
Even now we're shuddering:
The revelation aching.
It didn't have to be this way.
In fact, it did not have to be.
The gone were/are no threshold,
No stepstone beneath our feet.
Even as they did not die 
For us, we shall move for them.
We shall only learn when we let this loss, 
Like us, sing on & on.

Poems are green and Poetry is mean.
-Poetry Beast

Please accept my endless gratitude,
I'm tickled pink,
You're a gift!
Thank you for your time and attention.
It's a blessing you've stopped to observe and listen.


ADDITIONAL INFO: @thebaldheadedpoet | Linktree